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"All right," he said.  He lifted his revolver and fired into the
air, once.

Benton Todd and the man named Allen were coming
toward the corner.

Mr. Munn motioned to the two men guarding the prisoners
in the doorway. They approached, and mounted their horses.
The three men whom they had been guarding remained, half-
hidden in the shadow. Mr. Munn walked his horse to the
spot, and looked down at them. The man who had snuffled
and had said that his wife was sick stood behind the other
two. " Come on out," Mr. Munn ordered. " You all can go
now," They came out, the last man somewhat hesitantly.
"You can get on home now to that sick wife you haven't
got," Mr. Mi inn said.

The man raised his face, mottled and empty in the un-
certain light, and ran his tongue over his lips. Suddenly,
looking at him, Mr. Munn hated him. He felt the blind im-
pulse to cause him pain, to show his hatred, to torture him.
Leaning from his saddle, he exclaimed. "Get away from
here! Goon! Quick!"

The man backed away a couple of steps, his face still raised
emptily, then turned and fled. The other two men were
already gone.

Mr. Munn lifted his arm. "Let's go," he said loudly, and
lifted his mare to a gallop. The men swung in behind him.

As they went out of town, all of the houses were dark. But
inside of them, he knew, there were the people. They lay in
their beds, listening, staring up into the dark. Or they peered
from the darkened windows.

At the top of the slope outside of town, he looked back.
The glow of the fires still lingered. But the flames were down.

It was some fifteen minutes later, a couple of hundred yards
beyond the place where four of the men had turned off into
a side lane to go home, that he first thought he heard the
sound of hoofs behind him. But he dismissed the matter
from his mind for the moment. Then, not much later, he
was sure, or almost sure. He could hear, he thought, the